A whisper quiet Eurostar train, jettisoned us in class all the way to Florence, passing through little villages and interesting countryside along the way. The internet ticketing worked a treat, the inspector giving the all clear on board after checking our booking number.Just a hop, skip and a jump from the station and we’d walked to the Duomo square to be greeted by the beautiful green and pink marble of the Duomo itself and the Baptistery. Our hotel was in the street leading off the centre of the square and we expected it to be down the other end. It wasn’t, rather it was just two doors down, with a view of the baptistery dome. Centrally heated and recently revamped, the room was large, clean and very comfortable. A quick reconnaissance mission found us heading to the river and straight onto the Ponte Vecchio and Cassy straight into gold jewelry and designer shopping heaven! We wandered the bridge back and forth, got our bearings and found out where the major sights were, ready for visits in subsequent days. The inner city or centro storico was virtually a car free area during shopping hours (pretty much 10am till 11pm) and we quickly got used to our pedestrian privileges on the cobblestoned streets and lanes. Christmas Eve was abuzz with shoppers and the vibe was happy and exciting, large bags emblazoned with designer names being toted by stylish, beautiful people. If Italy is the style capital of the world, Florence is the style capital of Italy, and don’t the people know it! Even shop assistants and ticket collectors were wearing Prada and Ferragamo, although we must take pride in the fact that not a day went by without us being asked, at least once, directions or questions in Italian by Italian tourists! I’m certain my massive nose and current flowing locks helped the image and Cassy’s usual grace and style meant she looked nothing like the tracky dakked tourist hordes…it was a crack up!
Christmas day in Italy was always going to be a non-event gallery/museum/sight wise, so we worked out a little walking tour of the city taking in as many as 8 churches…they’d be open for sure! We wound our way to the other side of the river then worked our way back. Along the way we saw great frescoes, mighty painted ceilings and a golden wash of religious artefacts so dazzling that we were almost becoming immune to the majesty of it all. Mum, you’ll be pleased to know that I “attended” 5 more masses than I’ve attended in the last couple of decades as 5 of the churches were holding a service when we entered. Cassy was most impressed as I made the sign of the cross at the right moment a couple of times: even in Italian the intonations seemed to drone on in a very similar manner! We then wandered round the Duomo region after checking the excesses of the Medici clan’s churches and basilicas before lunching on veal and tortellini and the obligatory half litre of chianti. Gelatos delicious for afters before attacking the hills outside the city to see a view over the city and heading back via a dirty outdoor David copy (still stunning) and the Santa Croce area. We checked out the good luck boar and touched his golden snout to ensure our return to Florence, much as we threw some coins over our shoulder into the Trevi in Rome. The Uffizi was our prime destination the next day and our pre-booked tickets saw us whiz past the assembled queue and in and away. What a feast of Renaissance gold we had! Bronzino portraits, Raphaels, my favorite Titians, Lippis and some rare happy Madonna and child by various artists were wonderful to linger over. The true highlights were Botticelli’s Venus, which still seems so modern to us, Michelangelo’s Assumption and Caravaggio’s Young Bacchus which was sublime. The stunning highlight for me however, was Caravaggio’s Medusa shield: a supremely powerful image so captivating I bought a postcard and a print of it in the bookshop afterwards! Pretty shell shocked by the Uffizi, we had a late lunch before clearing our heads with a 2 ½ hour successful search for just the right red leather jacket for Cassy, then nearly literally flew up the 414 steps of the Campanile as a frigid strong wind tested my vertigo to the limit up top!
Next day I was just so excited to see the David that I could barely concentrate on some of the other wonders we saw in the morning. We scaled the heights and narrow stairwells of the Duomo’s dome then crept into its crypt for frescoes and mosaics. The Museo Dell Opera was a revelation behind the Duomo as it had on display treasures unlimited including the “Gates of Paradise” (as described by Michelangelo), the original bronze doors made over 50 years for the baptistery by Ghiberti, his life’s work. Michelangelo’s tortured masterpiece, the self damaged Pieta, was Cassy’s favorite, the damage very well repaired. My quirky fav was John the Baptist’s finger of all things! A quick trip back downtown to see some carved and special Michelangelo "graffitti" scratched on the wall of the Pallazo Vecchio...exciting to think, "he woz 'ere"
Next to the Accademia for David. I was as excited as a little kid as we again used our booked tickets to wash past the lengthy line and enter. David has been washed down in the last few years and restored anew and of course was absolutely mind-blowing. Nothing really prepares you for this type of brilliance. We spent a long time admiring from every angle, and highly illegally, I even managed to click off a shot or two. We managed to tear ourselves away long enough to study and admire Michelangelo’s four other works in the lead up hall: the unfinished and powerful stagione series, unfinished as he was called away for a little job on the Sistine chapel! I can’t describe this David experience adequately, so won’t try to continue. The glitzy shops in the Tournbuoni and the Baptistery’s gilded mosaic ceilings were great, but not really in the same league after this…I had to go and have a good lie down!
An unexpected pleasure on December 28 came from a cultural and culinary perspective. The Palazzo Pitti provided a slew of some magnificent Titians and Raphaels, along with the odd Botticelli and the one creepy Caravaggio cupid. Cassy was fascinated with the intricate inlaid marble and precious stone tables in every room as well: so detailed and fine that they looked painted on. Amazing rooms in colour themes presented themselves for oohing and aahing all the way through the palace. We tried to find a recommended small restaurant nearby, couldn’t, yet stumbled on what must really be the best pizza in Italy, at least the very best we ate (and I ate a LOT!). Gusta pizza had no table service, no English, no plates (pizzas were served on a piece of cardboard), but the most salivatingly delicious fare one could imagine. Wow! A well kept little secret in the back streets over the river and the local buzzy crowd seemed very amused at our presence. A last walk across the Ponte Vecchio saw the purchase of some beautiful semi-precious stone and gold half hoop earrings for Cassy and we wandered around a bit at night bidding a fond farewell to another delightful city. Up early before we had to catch our train to check the Salvatore Ferragamo shoe museum. I must admit I wasn't looking forward to this, but I enjoyed it immensely: these shoes are works of art. Sofia Loren's, Audrey Hepburn's and Marilyn Monroe's featured, but all of them were interesting. You can imagine what a highlight this was for Cassy! Venice beckons…looks like yet another instalment.